Shots of Life
by duskri123
Summary: 100-500 word drabbles from prompts. Not for anything particular, just a personal challenge between dcurley1 and I. Always Jasper-Bella, or mentions of the pairing. Rated everything, so M to be safe. Not beta'd, but meh.
1. Eggs, Dad!

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Not my sandbox or sand, but I'm still building castles. **

**A/N: This is kind of a little project between dcurley1 and I. Not for any particular thing or group or contest...just a challenge to keep writing at least something, everyday. Whatever I do will likely be Jasper-Bella pairings, or mentions of it—not every drabble is the same plot. And they'll be between 100-500 words each. Prompts are given from Juliangelus, although this one was from dcurley1. **

**Pairing or characters: Jasper (Bella is mentioned) and OC. **

**Rated: This one is T, but any other one could be something different. **

**Prompt: Embarrassment **

**Word count: 448**

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**Eggs, Dad!**

Jasper slammed the door to his old Chevy truck with a loud bang. His hands gripped the steering wheel until his fingers felt numb and his knuckles were white.

"Daddy?" his daughter asked softly from beside him.

Jasper hadn't forgotten she was there—not for a single moment. Hence his anger being directed at the steering wheel instead of a string of strong foul cusses he really just wanted to expel from his mind.

"You—"

"No," Jasper interrupted her immediately and turned to face his child. "Don't you _dare_ say I didn't have to do that, baby, because I most certainly _did_."

He loved his little girl with his entire being. In his eyes, the sun, moon, and stars revolved around that eight year old child. So, when she had begged and pleaded to join the peewee hockey team, how was he supposed to explain to her that their town and her school didn't offer a girls' only team for her age group—especially when her heart was so set on playing? He couldn't.

Bella and him bought the gear she needed, got her the proper skates fitted, and then they faced the committees for the team.

Jasper was at least able to get her considered for tryouts...but after that, it was all up to her and whatever ability she had. And shit, his little girl was _good_! But that didn't stop the boys from making comments, or the parents for that matter. Some games and practices we're better than others, and then there were ones like today when a parent demanded the small girl be benched so a boy could have more play time—after all, the parent had sneered, hockey wasn't for little girls, anyway.

She'd called her Daddy, crying and sobbing all over the cell phone her parents had provided, and when he heard what happened, Jasper was done with all the bullshit and competition of the boys' hockey team, and their parents. He made it to the rink in record time, sent his tear streaked daughter to the locker room while he ripped into every parent who dared speak badly about his child simply because she only wanted to be able to play a sport that she enjoyed.

"That's not what I meant, Daddy," Chloe said, looking at him through her hockey helmet. She struggled to lean up with all her gear still on, but managed to open Jasper's visor before pointing at the mirror. "You have egg on your face!"

Jasper's forehead hit the steering wheel as he understood why his wife had thrown the wet face cloth at him before he rushed from the house.

_Awesome_, he thought... _That's just awesome_.


	2. Good Thing

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox and sand, but I'm making castles. **

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. I replied to a few who had questions and things. But for everyone else: THANK YOU. It makes me very happy to read them. **

**Check out my girl, dcurley1, and her other side of these prompts and drabbles. **

**Prompt: Broomstick (Prompt provided by Juliangelus)**

**Characters: Bella-Jasper **

**Rated: M**

**Word Count: 326**

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**Good Thing...**

Bella watched her friends dance—drunkenly and not that good, mind you—underneath the flashing lights of the high up DJ booth. She didn't want to be here, not by a long shot, but her friends had practically demanded it. She was twenty-one now, they had whined. It's a rite of passage, the other one cried.

It was stupid, Bella thought.

Nursing her third beer of the evening, a slow creeping buzz was starting to edge around Bella's senses.

"Hey," a guy beside her slurred.

Bella looked over. He was handsome; she thought...at least he had that going for him. "What?"

"I'm Jasper."

"That's nice."

Bella turned her head away, tipped the beer up, and took another long swig of the bitter liquid. She was in for a long night if all she could expect was drunken guys—even if they were good looking—and drunken friends; so much for her twenty-first birthday being about her.

The drunk guy—Jasper—was talking again, Bella realized. She half listened. "Aren't you cur—"He hiccupped and swung around of his seat. "...curious to know why I'm so sad?"

"Nope," Bella said and shrugged.

"You suck."

"Yep."

"Hey!" He pointed his drink at Bella and raised an eyebrow. "You need to smile."

Bella raised an eyebrow right back. "You need—"

"No, shut up and listen, woman. I have a joke for you." Jasper sat his beer on the bar-top and turned to face the girl once more. "Why don't witches wear panties?"

_Oh my God_, Bella screamed on the inside. Her mouth popped open as she stared at the man. "What?"

"No, it's why," he muttered, confused. "Anyway...it's because they have a better grip on the broomstick."

Bella tried hard to keep the laughter from bubbling up out of her mouth. Maybe she was drunker than she previously thought. Hiding her grin with the tip of her beer bottle, Bella snickered.

"It's a good thing you're cute," Bella told him.


	3. Man Overboard

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox or sand, but I think I know how to make a castle. **

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! I don't pretend to know great knowledge about what I bring up here...or the practices that would be used on such an occasion. It's fiction. Yeah. **

**Probably my last one for today, but I might do one more later if _Witness_ doesn't catch my attention. **

**Prompt: Man Overboard by Puscifer (Prompt provided by Juliangelus, and the song can be found on YouTube, of course).**

**Rated: Really, it's like a T, but it could bring up issues for some people so we'll say M. **

**Characters: Jasper (Bella is mentioned)**

**Word Count: 455**

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**Man Overboard **

He woke up to the alarms ringing overhead. Jasper's tiny bunk was suddenly a whole lot smaller and he felt like the elephant stuck in the small space. Jumping from the bunk, his boots—why take them off? It took longer to put them back on—hit the hard floor with a snap. His left ankle burned at the feeling.

"Damn!"

"_Not a drill. All hands on deck. Not a drill. All hands on deck." _

Noise pounded from the outside of his cabin. The ship rocked hard. Shouts seeped under the small crack in his door. Jasper kicked at his bunk mate while he pulled on his pants, "Wake up, dumbass! How can you sleep through this?"

Cullen groaned and rolled slowly from his sleeping position. Jasper realized his bunk mate wasn't being lazy, he was sick as a fucking dog_. Damn it_.

"_Not a drill... All hands on deck..." _

He hated that the voice recorded on the system was so damned calm when everything else around them was in chaos. It was supposed to encourage the crew to feel safe—reassured—but it obviously wasn't working.

A new voice took over the system—the ship's Captain—barking orders. "Assume positions. Man your stations. Keep the panic low. This is not a drill, I repeat, _not_ a drill!"

Jasper's heart clanged like a toll bell—hard and loud in his chest. His lungs felt too tight, as if he couldn't breathe. His feet pounded the corridors as he made his way to the upper deck. A screaming sound echoed overhead; drowning out the screeching alarms and the repetitive recording.

Running up a small flight of stairs, Jasper could see the sunlight. He just had to make it to his plane; that was it, his only goal.

The morning sky was red; frightening and maddening. Jasper couldn't help but look up at it completely entranced.

Movement on the deck was rushed but methodical. Planes were directed and hissed down the runway, the speeds creating a back draft that drowned out all the other noise. Jasper was just thirty feet from his machine.

Something cracked hard from below Jasper; it _boomed_. He hit the deck on all fours, head tucked between his arms as the ship rocked, groaning.

_What the fuck?! _

He heard a whimper...then realized it was his own.

Then he was flying. Jasper was wet; covered and surrounded. Water pushed into his lungs and Jasper panicked. His arms swung; grabbing at nothing...finding _nothing_.

_I promised_, he thought. _I promised, I promised, I promised. _

Sirens wailed. Water splashed. Planes flew overhead. The pendant from his wife—Bella—broke off his wrist during the struggle. He grappled to catch it in the water.

Jasper kept his promise.


	4. We're Trouble

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: Apparently I should at least put one proper disclaimer for this whole thing, but in case it hasn't been made clear, there's no copyright infringement intended. This is for entertainment purposes only. **

**A/N: Last one for today, guys and girls. **

**Prompt: Dialogue flex. "Shh! Hear that?" "I didn't hear anything." (Provided by Juliangelus)**

**Rated: M for situations, ect. **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper **

**Word Count: 443**

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**We're Trouble**

"Psst!"

"Stop it," Jasper mumbled from the floor. He tossed the decorative pillow under his head at the brown-eyed girl on the bed. "You're gonna wake up your dad, babe."

That would be all they would need. Charlie wouldn't even get the door opened and he'd smell the weed. Jasper could already see the vein that would bulge in Charlie's forehead and the barrel of the gun that would chase him out of the house.

How he ever got mixed up with a cop's daughter, Jasper wasn't sure...but damn he liked it. It wasn't like they were completely serious. It was just fun, usually, with the occasional drama, but what teenager didn't drabble in that shit, right?

They were only seventeen, anyway. Next year they'd be separated by a few states and if it didn't work, it didn't. That's just how it was. For now, they were just playing the high school game; learning shit and causing shit. Trouble, that's all they were.

"Jasper," Bella whispered. She leaned over the bed, hair falling everywhere in messy curls, and pupils dilated to the maximum. Paranoia covered her features and Jasper couldn't help but laugh. "Stop laughing at me!"

_It's the weed_, he decided. There was no way in hell Jasper was ever buying weed from James again, because instead of the usual calm and giggles his girl got, this time Bella was off the freaking wall. There was always the possibility that what you bought wasn't just clean weed, but instead laced with a bit of coke, maybe some X, but hell, usually James could be trusted; apparently not this time.

Jasper rolled onto his stomach and crawled over to the edge of the bed. When his fingers gripped the edge of the bed, he peeked up just enough to see Bella staring wide eyed back at him.

"Chill out."

"Shh," she muttered, fingers pressing to her lips. Jasper raised his brow in response, trying to hold back more laughter. "Did you hear that?"

He shook his head and grabbed Bella's hands away from her mouth. Once he pulled himself up onto the bed, he kissed her lips to quiet her rambling. "Come on, shut up! I didn't hear anything."

"Jasper, I swear to God!"

Burying his face into the strawberry smell of her hair, the bed shook from Jasper's laughter. "You're gonna hear your dad if you don't stop it." Arms wrapped tight around his waist. Bella whined and pointed at the ceiling. "There's nothing to hear, babe," he tried to reassure, but looked at where she pointed, anyway.

"I swear that light bulb just spoke, Jas!"

Yeah...never buying weed from James again.


	5. An Outsider's View

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Not my sandbox and sand, you know. **

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, faves, and alerts! **

**I struggled with this one...that should make Jules happy, as she wanted me to find one prompt she gave me a little difficult. Instead of using the prompt directly, I used a piece of the prompt tp draw inspiration; a snake, of course. This one's for you, Jules. **

**Prompt: (h)(t)(t)(p)** : / / en . Wikipedia wiki / File : Simonettavespucci . jpg **(remove the spaces everywhere else and**** link should work. Prompt provided by Juliangelus)**

**Rated: It's like a T, but the picture is an M. **

**Characters: Carlisle, Bella-Jasper **

**Added info: For this drabble to make sense, go way OOC in your mind, as if Jasper had been the single Cullen.**

**Word Count: 497**

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**An Outsider's View **

I rocked the hanging bench with the toe of my shoe; holding a book precariously in one hand—only pretending to read. My head was tilted down enough not to draw the small girl's attention sitting on the back lawn, but I was still able to watch her.

Jasper was so untrusting of his own self, he constantly wanted a chaperone. The irony of him falling in love with a human whose blood sang to another of my sons certainly wasn't lost to me. I think he felt a little less weak in his struggles, then. Little Bella had certainly made things more interesting around our usually quiet home.

Bella's shriek of terror had me standing but Jasper was already out of the forest at the sound. I sat back down immediately, never drawing her attention to my position. I watched him scan the ground as Bella froze in horror; pointing repeatedly at a spot five feet away from her feet.

"It's a _garden_ snake," Jasper said. He laughed and faster than Bella could see with her human eyes, he had the offending reptile hissing and struggling in one hand. "Want to touch it?"

"No!"

My oldest—only his vampire years—son was down to his knees, leaning towards the girl. Holding his arm at full length, the snake wrapped itself tightly to his arm, curling like bands. "He won't bite," Jasper teased.

My lips pursed and I attempted to hold back laughter. I resisted the urge to father him; to reprimand and make him leave the poor girl alone. Jasper was her mate, after all. He could handle her fears if he needed to. His job in this life wasn't to just love her, but push and encourage her, also. Who better to do that than the vampire who feared nothing but the only thing he loved?

I think little Bella had her hands in that pot, also.

"Jasper, you stop that, right now!"

The terrified snake uncurled itself and Jasper moved forward—crawling on his knees—to hold the snake's flicking tongue closer to his lover. "He's just a baby—probably more terrified of you than you are of it. Stop being so stubborn."

He was the devil tempting Eve, I thought. Only instead of fruit being dangled—hiding the truth of what lay beneath the sweet taste and beautiful colors—Jasper showed only his honest self. His demons were laid bare. It was trust, and fear, and love. Sleeping with the devil always had its downfalls; it had rewards, too.

How _very_ appropriate.

I found the book I had been using as my previous ruse to be closed in my hand as Bella reached out her fingers in Jasper's direction. The snake hissed; Bella hesitated at the sound. Its tongue flicked out and hit her skin lightly. She laughed a breezy sound and I chuckled when Jasper's eyes lit up in triumph.

Perhaps the little human was the one tempting the devil, after all.


	6. Blood Soaked, Baby

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox and all that jazz. **

**A/N: Um...so, I figured since these are supposed to be drabbles, I'd actually try my hand at doing one in 100 words, exactly. Not easy. **

**Thanks for all the reviews! You all are awesome. **

**Prompt: His feet were already numb. He should have listened. (Prompt provided by Juliangelus)**

**Rated: M**

**Characters: Bella (Jasper is mentioned) **

**Word Count: 100**

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**Blood Soaked, Baby **

The boy was seventeen. He wasn't sure why he agreed to meet her _here_. Anywhere else would've been better. It was cold as hell, his boots were soaked from wet snow, and his feet were already numb. When his parents said he was crazy, he should have listened.

He didn't hear _it_ until she was on him. The human was dead before she ripped his throat out.

Blood poured.

It covered—_soaked_.

The newborn drank.

When the haze cleared, Bella cried.

They'd trusted her; she failed—miserably.

Who could she call? Her hands trembled when she dialed.

"Jasper... Help me."


	7. Hail Mary

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I don't own it, I just use it. **

**A/N: This one could be a little bit offensive or a lot offensive. Either way, meh. Did I do the word "chastity" justice? Probably not. But I also associate it with religion, and I have a deep disregard for religion...sorry to those who don't. **

**Prompt: Chastity (Provided by Juliangelus)**

**Rated: M **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper**

**Word Count: 497**

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**Hail Mary **

_O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend thee, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life._

He lies.

His thoughts are lies. His prayers are lies. His doctrine is lies. The ministry he preaches is the biggest of all the lies.

She is his beautiful lie.

He wonders if her habit feels as tight as his clerical collar. Does it choke and pull? Does the rosary hanging about her waist jerk like a leash every time she sins? His collar threatens and suffocates.

She's beautiful in black, he thinks. But she's much more honest in only skin.

_The Lord loves the pure of heart. _

They see her at her best, he knows. She walks around them with a high head but knowing eyes. They follow by example and never question when she speaks. Soft spoken but strong willed...she's perfect.

They see her then, he knows, but he gets her when she's better, he thinks.

The robe she wears hides her skin and curves. It disguises beauty. Sometimes he thinks he likes it better that way—no one else but him has seen. The coif and veil atop her head covers hair—brown, rich, and full—he knows she's proud to have. It's like soft silk and his favorite thing to wrap his fingers within when they shake.

_God will judge the immoral and adulterers. _

Black hides him too, he knows. It helps him to blend into the walls when he wishes to simply watch her, like now. They never know he's here, but she does, he thinks.

He watches the sweeping motion of the black fabric hit the floor. Her fingers twist a bead on the rosary. She smiles and nods like the good servant they need her to be. Her eyes find his leaning form in the corner.

It's a secret. It's filth and sin. Didn't you know? God cares little for that.

Jasper knows.

He knows they see her clean and untouched. He knows her knees hurt when she prays and her throat clenches when she swallows the sacramental bread. They think she was born for only this...he knows she regrets it.

Jasper doesn't. How can he?

_One who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery. _

He will let them have her like this, because he knows he'll have her when she's better.

When her nails dig into skin; when her sweat tastes the very sweetest; when her breath comes in pants; when she is _most_ pure.

The bible has told him sins of the flesh are evil; setting your mind on lust is simply wishing for death. He thinks the bible lies, now...he's never felt more alive.


	8. Craving

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Not my sandbox and sand, but these castles I'm making are mine, fyi. **

**A/N: All your responses make me kinda giddy, you know? ;) I thank you all. **

**Prompt: Ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight? (Prompt provided by Juliangelus)**

**Rated: M **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper**

**Word Count: 401**

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**Craving**

Jasper sat back against the trunk of the tree. His left leg stretched out across the ground as he rested his arm atop the other upright one. Smoke curled—twisting colorful loops—into the air from the cigarette dangling from the tips of his fingers. He tipped his head down, the cowboy hat he wore hiding his bemused gaze from the vampire twirling circles ten feet away.

She danced to nothing but the wind whistling through the trees.

"Bella," he called. She ignored him—she always did.

A tiny scrap a fabric covered her skin, but it didn't hide the shape of her body as she moved. Flimsy and barely there at all, it tightened around her curves every time Bella moved. Jasper had to admit, he enjoyed the show.

They thought when they changed her, she'd still be Bella. They were so wrong. There was no controlling the newborn; no amount of care and love would turn her attention from the _need_. It was something the Cullens weren't willing to offer.

Jasper took her away. They've never asked them to return. He can't say he cares much; it was the easiest choice he ever made, next to breathing.

"Bella..."

She laughs and it always turns into girlish giggles. Jasper smiles lazily and throws the cigarette to the ground. Tipping his head back, he sees the moon at its fullest. A hazy halo of pale coloring exudes from the rounded shape, floating out from the moon in waves. This is his very favorite time of night.

Absentmindedly, he rubs at the newest row of bite marks littering his arm. They still sting. They'll ache for days. Jasper loves it.

Bella has a sadistic streak. She likes to feel her teeth tear into flesh; feel her nails score lines across Jasper's back. He never stops her.

Once, Jasper lived with crazy. He'd been there not by choice, but by force. Now, he was living with outright insanity and he begged for nothing different.

He could handle hatred and pain. Bella had a taste for violence. Jasper craved it. With her, he didn't need to hide.

Jasper learned a long while back that evil wasn't always something ugly. The devil didn't come in the form of red skin, a tale, and horns. She could be beautiful with a pretty laugh and innocent eyes.

His was, anyway.

And he wouldn't have her any different.


	9. Give Me Peace

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. This is all for entertainment purposes only. I'm not affiliated with the important people. **

**A/N: Thank you all, again! **

**Okay, let's go WAY OOC, with this one, alrighty? **

**Prompt: h.t.t.p.s : / / w w w . dropbox . c.o.m / s / miq6q555od73fh6 / Dunvegan _ Castle _ - _ geograph . jpeg (Provided by Juliangelus. Remove the periods in between the first and the dotcom and remove all spaces, and in case the link doesn't work again, it's an old castle set on rocks surrounded by trees and water. Very old. Very beautiful.) **

**Rated: Idk, let's just call it a T. **

**Characters: Everyone**

**Word Count: 491**

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**Give Me Peace**

When they called, they came.

The Cullen name was enough of an influence to draw the vampires in. Curious, worried, or indifferent, they still showed. The names of forty vampires—only ones they trusted—had been listed.

The castle was a perfect sanctuary for this. Vampires felt safer by the water. There was plenty of room to stay inside if they wanted; more so in the vast forest outside the old place, and enough options for hunting to appease the human drinkers and vegetarians.

Jasper thought he should be more shocked than he felt as he surveyed the group, but he wasn't. They'd made a name for themselves in this world—Jasper especially.

Watching his mate pace the floor from across the room, Jasper analyzed her emotions. Bella didn't do well in crowds. She was a string held taught; ready to snap. With this many vampires surrounding them there wasn't much he could do to help her. His gift didn't work one on one in a group.

"Do you know what you're suggesting?" Makenna asked. "It's a guaranteed death!"

"It isn't," Jasper replied, strongly. "I promise."

"I like it," said another. Jasper could recognize that voice anywhere. His spine went ramrod straight. He hadn't realized Carlisle had placed Maria on the list, also. "I think it's brilliant—about damned time."

A whispered hiss drew Jasper's attention to his mate again. Bella glared unashamed at the female who Jasper had spent decades with. With a nod of his head, Edward was escorting Bella from the room without drawing more attention.

"We're unbeatable. We can _see_, _hear_, _manipulate_, _shield.._." Jasper pointed at Maria, despite his first unease..."She can _fight_. This is what we need. Can't you see that? They're killing us. They're sweeping in when you're unprotected; ruining everything you've built for yourselves. Why?" His hands slammed against the long oak table. "Because you have ability, strength...numbers? Because they are threatened! They are old, useless and we are terrified!"

Many spoke at once, shouting worries and disagreements. Others were angry for having come for this reason and feeling falsely led. Jasper's head dropped as he soaked in emotions.

A quiet voice spoke from the doorway. Jasper looked up once more to see his mate following the castle wall, her fingers trailing the old bricks as she spoke. "I want calm," Bella said. "I want safety for my family. I want to have the diet of my choice without being forced to take the traditional methods." She stopped walking and looked up to Jasper. "I want my husband to feel secure when I go hunting alone. I wish for him not to worry that I may not come back because I have a gift they seek."

Before anyone spoke again, Jasper could already feel the emotional resolve. They would do it, he knew. They would take the Volturi out because what he and his family wished for, they all did, too.

They needed peace.


	10. Legends

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement and all the usual stuff. **

**A/N: How about a friendship one? **

**Prompt: Unicorn **

**Characters: Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Bella, and Edward **

**Rated: K+**

**Word Count: It's like 527, but oh well.**

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**Legends **

I hadn't realized how into gaming Emmett was until he made me spend half a day playing online games with him. It wasn't that they weren't fun but they certainly weren't my idea of a productive way to spend time.

"One more?" he pleaded. His eyes went big and I sighed.

Just then, a realistic looking animal pranced across the screen. Emmett crowed in glory before hitting a few keys and shouting into the microphone. The mythical animal was shot down by Emmett's character in a snap.

My eyes went wide as I considered the unicorn I'd just seen killed on the game. "Are those real, too?"

Emmett side-eyed me like I'd gone crazy. "Unicorns? Because you know the game is fake, right? I mean...I know it's realistic, but it's not really _real_, kiddo."

I considered slapping his arm but thought better of the broken fingers I'd probably receive. "Yes, the unicorn," I muttered.

An indelicate snort came from the next room over. I could practically feel Rosalie's snide smile. "Unicorns, really? What next..."

My hands twisted together in my lap. Now I was starting to feel stupid. "Well—I just mean... Vampires and werewolves are real, is unicorns really that much of a stretch?"

I could hear the hissing from Edward laying into Rosalie and decided I wanted to end the conversation. "Never mind."

Emmett simply shrugged.

In a flash, the quietest Cullen was standing in the doorway. Jasper looked at me with tentative smile. "Bella?" he questioned. "I want to show you something."

Leading the way, Jasper took me to Carlisle's study. Rows of old leather bound books stared back at me. Carlisle always left this door open, saying if I was ever bored or curious, I was welcome to look. I never felt the need, really.

Jasper skimmed the third row up quickly before pulling out a book that looked as if it were on its last legs. I was scared to touch the pages when he held it out to me.

Pointing to a particular passage, it spoke of myths. He grabbed another book and opened it, too. It spoke of sightings. After three more books, Jasper looked at me, smiling. "Vampires were once well known to humans—not like today, I mean. Then, they knew of us—knew what we were, what we did, how we lived. They were terrified, but what could they do? They lived side by side us, regardless of their fears." Jasper placed the books back into the shelves. "Who's to say unicorns never existed, too?"

"What's the old saying: there's a little truth to every rumour."

"Exactly, Miss Bella." Jasper winked and before he left me standing in Carlisle's study, he said, "So don't let them ruin your dreams because sometimes dreams are all you have that's real, you know?"

A few days later, the ringing of my doorbell had me curious. Edward always knocked. Alice and Jacob always walked right in. When I opened the door, my laughter probably woke up every neighbor on the street.

"Bells?" Charlie looked outside.

I pointed at the plate of sweets sitting on the porch and laughed. "Unicorn poop cookies!"


	11. Is That Yours?

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. **

**A/N: Back to human! Thank you all again! You make my day with your comments. **

**Prompt: The link would not work for me again, but it's a green corset with a matching neck bow. (Provided by Juliangelus) **

**Rated: M **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper**

**Word Count: Way over 500. I don't think anyone will mind.**

* * *

**Is That Yours? **

Jasper sat in the darkest corner of the club that he could find. He didn't want to take the chance of her noticing him before he could actually see _her_, first. The very last thing he wanted to believe was his brother's words when Emmett had said he heard she was working here.

It wasn't that the place was lowly scum with vagrants running around or anything. It was actually pretty upscale. The women were clean. The drinking was monitored so no one became belligerently drunk. Everything seemed decent, for the most part.

But that wasn't the point. It didn't matter how nice the place was or how much security there was hanging around, Jasper didn't want his _wife _working in a gentleman's club.

Obviously, money had been tight. Things were difficult. Bella had decided to drop out of college for a couple semesters to let Jasper finish his degree before she would go back. It was a struggle and it had been for the last half a year but he didn't think she would ever resort to _this_.

_She's not dancing_, he reminded himself. _She's just a server. _

A server wearing a forest green corset that pushed her breasts up and together in the most scandalous of ways. A server who's pants had been forgone for a pair of panties that were nothing more than a scrap of lacy green fabric. And was that a bow tied around her fucking neck?

Jasper was gonna kill somebody, he just knew it.

Now he understood why she had been so quiet the last month. His excitement over her new job had been dimmed by her secrecy of where and what exactly it was. He wanted to trust his wife—and he had, for the most part...but this explained a lot.

He just couldn't have this shit. No man had the right to ogle his wife like they were right now; no man but Jasper, that was.

_Look at her tits one more time, motherfucker_, he growled in his mind.

A raucous laugh rung out as a young man of about twenty-three ran his fingers up the front of Bella's corset. Jasper watched his wife slap at he man's hand before giving him a verbal warning. In seconds, security was standing behind her, ordering the young man to take a bathroom break to clear his head before re-joining his group.

Jasper's blood boiled. Getting up from his small table, Jasper tipped his fedora down over his eyes and slipped along the shadows of the wall, avoiding any attention he might gain. Soon enough, he found himself alone in the bathroom with the young man who's hands had just touched where no one but Jasper's had ever been.

"Sup, man?" the guy asked when he noticed Jasper standing by the door.

_Why was there a lock on the inside_? Jasper wondered. No matter, he hit the switch, effectively cutting out the ability for someone to enter.

"Hey!"

"Shut up," Jasper hissed. His eyes turned back on the man, blazing with rage. "You know that woman you just harassed out there?"

Quickly, the guy zipped up his pants and shrugged. His lips curved into a defiant smirk. "What be it? She like your sister or something?" Turning to spit into the urinal, the man laughed. "They ask for it, I think—working in a place like this."

Jasper nodded to himself, not agreeing with the man but just confirming to himself that his next actions were sure gonna be justified and damn well fucking worth it.

"Nope, not my sister. That'd be my fucking wife, dimwit."

The man moved, attempting to push past Jasper who was still blocking the way. In a snap, Jasper grabbed the guy's fingers—the same ones that touched Bella—and bent them back with as much force as he could manage. He heard—_felt_—the three bones break. Jasper forced the man to the floor as he shouted in agony.

"What the fuck, man? Let me go!"

"Nope," Jasper repeated, bending the broken digits further. "I swear to God if you so much as breathe in my wife's direction again, the next thing I break won't be repairable, got it?"

The man nodded jerkily as the tears formed into the corner of his eyes. Jasper laughed bitterly. "Don't touch what's not yours, kid."

With that, Jasper released him, turned to unlock the bathroom, and left. Bella was waiting with security outside the bathroom. Her eyes were filled with humour but her posture said she had been worried.

"Jasper!" she admonished.

"He touched you." It sounded a lot like a whine. Jasper couldn't help it. Three security workers fled past the two as Jasper reached out to touch the fabric of the corset. "You could have told me, Bella."

"I know." Her sigh was harsh. She wrung her hands nervously. "I do know that, Jas. It was just...what were we going to do, you know? I couldn't afford the next water bill. The electricity was three months behind. We were eating ramen noodles on nightly bases, for Christ's sake!"

Jasper had to look away from his wife. He knew all these things—every last one of them. "I'll get a second job, if that's what it takes. But there is no way in Hell you're working here another minute."

"Okay," Bella agreed. He looked back at her, shocked. Jasper expected more of a fight. "Come on, Jasper, we better go before they throw you out."

Just then, Jasper noticed the security that was helping the man from the bathroom. He was still crying, the little wimp. Jasper still couldn't manage to feel badly for his actions. He smirked at his wife when she shook her head at the man.

Jasper's fingers reached up and fiddled with the satin green bow tied to her neck. "So...did you buy this or do you have to give it back?"

"Required to buy it... Why?"

Jasper slipped the bomber style jacket of his shoulders, covered his wife and pressed a soft kiss to her temple before whispering, "Why waste it?"


	12. I Need This Hole Gone

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox and sand, but it's my castle. **

**A/N: Let's try a different tone with this one... And thank you again, everyone! **

**Prompt: Sunshine on a rainy day. (Prompt provided by Juliangelus) **

**Rated: Eh, like T because it's a seriously sensitive topic. **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper **

**Word Count: 500. (I actually got it right on, ha ha)**

* * *

**I Need This Hole Gone **

Jasper twisted the gold band on his finger. It felt like a weight attached to his body that he wanted gone. Everything felt like that; even breathing took too much effort.

Rain poured outside. Water hit the windows; banged the roof. Wind rustled against the siding on the house. Jasper wanted to crawl back up to his bed and hide.

His wife of nearly five years walked into the kitchen and pressed the button on the coffee machine. Grabbing the dishcloth from the sink, Bella dampened it and wiped the counter.

"Sleep well?"

She hadn't even looked at him. How'd she know he was there? His reply was a whispered, "Fine." He was lying. They hadn't slept in the same bed in months, by his choice. He was sure Bella didn't miss his presence there, anyway.

"I'm meeting Rosalie today." Bella pulled out a coffee mug. "Did you want to come?"

_Yeah_... "No."

"She misses you."

Jasper sighed and looked out the window again. Rain began falling harder. _Now or never_. "I want a divorce."

Bella stopped pouring coffee. Tension rolled across her shoulders as sadness and anger began creeping in her heart; setting the cup down, she turned to face Jasper.

"No."

"What?" _That's not how this works_. "You heard me...right?"

"I heard you just fine." Bella walked over and pulled the chair beside him out to sit into. "You don't get to make that choice; not alone. I'm sorry this hasn't been the life you imagined; I know you're hurting—you have been for a long time. I know that, I _do_. But you don't get to throw that word out just because you feel like you can't deal—because you don't _want_ to."

"It's not like that—"

"It is," Bella snapped. Jasper was surprised. His wife was the quiet one. Bella never asked for much and she rarely had a lot to say, but when she did, he listened. "It's _exactly_ like that. I married you at _eighteen_. I was pregnant and you wanted to do the right thing. So we did; here we are. I can't help he wasn't born healthy. We didn't ask for that, Jasper."

Knowing Jasper wouldn't speak, Bella continued, "I know you're depressed. I know that feeling better than you understand because when I was here and the house was quiet when it should have been filled with his cries—where were you? What were _you_ doing, Jasper? I stayed then. I waited it out."

"I'm sorry." It came out much more broken then he intended. "What do you want me to say?"

"I'm _still_ waiting it out..."

Her hand reached out and grasped his fingers. Jasper felt his hand begin to shake. He grabbed back. It was the first time they really _touched_ in months.

Sunlight began seeping through cloud cover. The brightness colored the panes of glass on the window; streaking across the table.

"Don't ask me to say yes to that when I'm still waiting on you, Jas."


	13. Things My Daddy Said

_**Drabbles **_

**Dsiclaimer: Not my sandbox and sand, but these are my castles, okay? **

**A/N: Thank you, everyone! **

**Prompt: Teenagers (Provided by Juliangelus) **

**Rated: M for language. **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper, Edward, Emmett **

**Word Count: Not quite sure...probably a little over 500.**

* * *

**Things My Daddy Said **

Jasper twisted the wrench hard to get the bolt to tighten. The tool slipped against the metal as shouts began getting louder from the house. He cussed at the sight of an ugly scratch the wrench had made against pristine chrome.

"I'm gonna start knockin' heads if you two don't shut your yappin' in there!" Jasper shouted from the garage. Neither of his two boys heeded the warning. Jasper muttered under his breath as he slammed the hood to his Chevy down. "I swear on God's holy earth if I have to come outta this shop, you're both gonna wish I hadn't!"

Still, the shouting continued. Jasper wiped the grease from his hands on to a rag as his oldest-Emmett-called his youngest-Edward-a little bitch.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth!" Edward shot back.

At seventeen and fifteen, the testosterone ran hot and high between those boys-that was just a fact of life. Shouting matches were most common, but Jasper had needed to step in on more than one occasion to stop the fists when they began flying.

Boys were a tough kind to raise Jasper realized a long time ago. How his Mama and Daddy did it when Peter and he were growing up, Jasper wasn't sure. Being fraternal twins, they never seperated as they grew up. Even when _their _fists flew, Jasper and Peter were still fighting together.

And damn, weren't they two bad little shits. They'd given their parents enough hell growing up, that was for sure; no point in lying or hiding.

The last straw was when they stole their Daddy's new truck for a joy ride and totaled it in the woods. They were lucky they survived; their Daddy, that is, not the accident.

Neither of the Whitlock boys were willing to admit which was driving or whose idea it had been in the first place-Jasper's on both accounts-but they'd learned a lot about their Daddy that day.

Joe Whitlock was a home-grown country kinda man. He liked simple things, hard work, and living. He believed you fixed what you broke, helped who you could, and gave as much as you'd been given.

He gave a lot to his boys that day.

His words were simple: You don't _ever _call your Mama a bitch, for one. Two, it didn't matter how old they were; Joe could still whip their asses at eighteen like he had when they were five. And three, so help them God when they were Joe's age and had kids of their own. He hoped they gave Jasper and Peter as much trouble as they'd given him.

_Damn Peter to hell for having three girls_, Jasper thought.

The rag was forgone as Jasper heard the crashes begin in the kitchen. Soon, he found his two teenaged boys being held apart by the collar of their t-shirts by his wife Bella as she shook her head in anger.

The vile shouts between the boys continued but Bella held firm to her spot. Suddenly, his wife let loose a whistle that would ground a hound before she released them both and landed a hard whack to the backs of both boys' heads.

"Ow, Ma! What the fuck?" Emmett cried, rubbing at his skull.

"I said enough!" Bella put her fists to her hips and glared. They cowered at the sight while Jasper chuckled in the doorway. "I warned you both; if you couldn't get along and stop the bitchin' and fightin' for two minutes, _I _was gonna start knockin' heads."

Her hands lifted and pointed in two directions-outside and up the stairs. "Now _get_!"

The boys scattered quicker than Jasper could blink; Emmett to his room and Edward went out the back door. Jasper laughed quietly to himself. His little wife-all one hundred and ten pounds of glaring force-could put the fear of God into their two sons better than he ever would.

Jasper realized his Daddy had been right about one thing: his sons were just like him. Still, his Daddy had never considered he'd find a woman like Bella, either.


	14. The Meaning

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. It ain't mine, kind of thing. **

**A/N: Thank you all! One more for today...I might work on a third, I don't know yet. **

**Pretend the mating bond is sort of like imprinting here, okay? Just an idea I had. **

**Prompt: Library **

**Rated: Eh, it's not even a T, more like a K+. **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper **

**Word Count: 258**

* * *

**The Meaning**

"How will I ever know what it felt like?" Bella whispered against her lover's skin. "If you don't tell me, I'll never know."

She was right, Jasper realized. He'd found her when she was human and when she turned and burned, the bond had already been sealed. It was just there...

But how could he explain it?

It was all by accident, really. He came to the old building because it seemed less and less humans used libraries now, what with everything being so computerized. The place gave him a sense of home and peace; the quiet he craved.

He smelled her first. Then the empty shelf he was staring at suddenly had a hole in it as a young brown-eyed human pulled a book from the other row. It was her eyes, Jasper thought. Brown pools with green flecks that seemed never ending.

All at once it seemed as if time had stopped; like miles and miles of ribbons were binding his skin and soul to hers; as if every second of his life meant nothing up until the point when he could finally just _see_ her.

That library had purpose for Jasper after all. That was the small gift destiny had given him. But how would he explain, Jasper wondered? How could he tell her that it felt like he'd burned all over again when she smiled? How could he say the very breath Bella breathed gave him a sense of completion?

Everything she was...he was now, too.

"It was as if you gave me life."


	15. This Isn't It

_**Drabbles **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Not my sand box or whatever but these castles are mine, yo. **

**A/N: Thank you all, really, it makes my day! **

**In case you were wondering, there are a few of these drabbles that connect. An Outsider's View, The Meaning, Give Me Peace, and This Isn't It are all pieces to a larger puzzle I'd like to create in the future...like after Witness. **

**Prompt: Despair **

**Rated: M **

**Characters: Jasper-Bella, Maria, everyone, really. **

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**This Isn't It **

Unbeatable, he'd promised.

He lied—but he hadn't.

He couldn't feel her; couldn't see her. He called her name; reaching out into the smoky air; ignoring pleas for help and screams of pain.

Where was she?

_Bella, Bella, Bella_.

Jasper's family; he found them easily enough through their fear.

It was panic—terror. The venom and heat.

Pain; his heart was dying.

"Bella!"

The smoke wasn't clear enough but Jasper thought he could see Maria fighting her way through a throng of vampire's attacking in a large group.

"No..."

"Jasper, help!" Maria screamed. "Over here!"

He still couldn't feel her.


	16. Makin' Music

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox or sand, but all these mini-castles are mine. **

**A/N: Um…just for fun, and why not? It's not beta'd, but who cares? **

**Characters: Jasper and Bella **

**Word Count: 581 (no one cares that it's over 500, right?)**

**Rated: Ma**

**Prompt: My gift is my song. **

**Prompt provided by Elle Leigh**

* * *

**Title: Makin' Music **

He's a musician; right down to his blood and bones. But it goes so much farther than that, too. It's deep like the sea blue in his eyes, or the baritone sound to his words when he speaks. How fingers tap, tap, tap on everything and anything they can find, making a beat wherever he goes.

It's genetic—in his history. How his grandfather's, grandfather's grandfather from either side composed or played or…damn, anything, really. The way his mother sang sweet songs from conception on, or how his father put that old broken six string to his hands before he could even walk.

He called me Melodic when hands touched and sought, dipping between wide opened thighs to kiss, bite, and feel like only he does. Those musician's hands, fingers worn and calloused from banging the strings of a guitar for more years than he can remember; so nicely roughed at the edges, tickling here, there, and very nearly everywhere.

He called me Lyrical when I twisted and turned in forest green sheets, crying his name so fucking low and broken when that baritone voice murmured, "Louder, louder, _louder_."

He called me Musical when he was buried so damned deep with my back arching high, and his lips pressed flushed and trembling to the skin of my cheek. "Louder, louder, louder," he whispered; always urging, wanting, and with those roughed-around-the-edges fingers grabbing so good, makes the music fall from my lips a little higher.

I never was a musician—never cared to touch and instrument or feel the way a tune vibrated so beautifully from a well-crafted instrument. Metal, wood, or plastic never held my interest…not until it was him sitting in the corner with a tune at his fingertips, looking up through golden, shaggy curls with eyes that darkened in their color and…good God, didn't he make it sound so fucking good.

They didn't like me—his parents. I wasn't hometown, small-town, countrified pretty. I didn't wear summer dresses in the heat, and I never learned to tack up a horse. Couldn't cook chicken to save my life, didn't hang clothes on the line, and hadn't gone to a Sunday morning service in years.

"But she sings so damned pretty," he told his momma with that grin she didn't understand. "And she plays so well," his daddy learned when he asked why.

Never could tune a guitar—couldn't hold a tune in the shower. But I sang the prettiest music for him, even more so when I shook, came, and broke under his weight, touch, and want. Or so he said, I learned.

He gave me everything, you know? From that cherry flavored cigar at a bar, to the decline of a contract worth millions for just his voice alone, to the tiny white house five doors down from his daddy's farm.

Tiny feet hit the floor and he moves quickly to pull down that summer dress and zip up his jeans. Her voice calls loud down the hallway and his chuckles vibrate against my sighing lips; we don't get to make much music anymore, not like we used to, anyway. I can't say it's not worth it, though.

Because I learned—learned that summer dresses made of cotton were nicer in the heat; clothes smelled better on the line; fried chicken tasted better cooked at home.

Sunday morning service still gets to wait, though.

Gave me everything when I didn't have a single thing to give…nothing but my song.


	17. Karma

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox or sand, but this is my mini-castle. **

**A/N: Check out my lady love dcurley1's prompt fics, as well as Elle Leigh's. Give them some love and tell 'em I send you, okay? Also, thank you for your responses. They make my day a little brighter. **

**Prompt: Kitchen Explosion/Cooking Fail **

**Prompt provided by Elle Leigh **

**Rated: T for language, mostly. **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper**

**Word Count: way over 500….whoops.**

* * *

**Title: Karma**

"…or how about the time you randomly decided to go to Vegas with your cousin, and didn't bother to call me until the next afternoon when you finally stumbled far enough out of the bathroom to remember you were _married_?"

Red, puffed out cheeks, pursed lips, and hands on her hips, his little wife was raving mad and going balls-to-the-walls on all his past transgressions, like usual. Jasper sighed and rubbed a hand over his face—she forgot to mention how he was nineteen when that happened, they'd only been married two months, and his cousin Peter was a _really_ bad influence whenever alcohol became involved.

"Bella…baby, you know—"

She didn't give him a chance to apologize again for that, instead, continuing her tirade like he hadn't even spoken. "Or when you took what savings we had and dropped it into that offshore investment that you were sure would bring in a massive return and instead flopped before the year was out, leaving us saving-less?"

Jasper grit his teeth. "Stop it."

It wasn't that they fought often, because they didn't. But, when they did, she had a habit of throwing every little thing he'd ever done back in his face like that explained everything and anything, and she didn't care a bit how it bothered him when she did it.

"Or that sixty-nine Chevy that is _still_ sitting out there in the garage looking like the heaping hunk of junk that it is! You still haven't mowed the front lawn this week and I swear to God if I get another citation for our grass being too long I will scream!"

"You're already screaming!" he shouted back.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because her left brow lifted like that was its second job and her chin jutted out as she clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. With the appearance of the bitch brow, the angry flare in her nostrils as she huffed a breath of air, and just the way her eyes cut to him like he'd just tracked dirt in on their white Persian rug…_again_…he knew… Oh, damn, did he ever know it.

"_Excuse_ _me_?"

Jasper gaped, trying to come up with the appropriate apology for raising his voice, but instead, like the idiot male he was, he went on the defensive. "And what about you, baby? Huh?" he asked, tone scathing with a dismissive wave at her form. "Why don't I bring up how you still talk to your ex like he's your best friend, or how you couldn't manage to separate the darks from the whites for the first year of our marriage and I walked around looking like a pink flamingo? Or hey! Let's not forget about the nearly twenty-thousand dollar remodel in our kitchen—"

Bella gasped, a hand flying up to cover her mouth as tears welled in pretty brown eyes. "You _wouldn't_."

His brow had a mind of its own, too, apparently. "Oh, I would; the twenty-thousand dollar remodel in our kitchen that was ruined and had to be redone—"

"Jasper…" she trailed off, backing away with her head shaking no and hands grasping at the counter top. "You know that was a mistake."

He nodded, but shrugged. "Sure, like the investment was, or how I didn't think it would bother you to go on a quick trip to Vegas with my cousin, and let's not forget the heaping hunk of junk that you wanted, too, but I haven't had the time to work on since I work nearly sixty hours a week to pay for the home you wanted. And by the way, you know how to run that fucking mower, sweetheart, so get to it." With one step forward, he watched his wife's face crumple. "But if you really want to talk about the money I've wasted, we should really talk about the kitchen ex—"

"Don't you dare! You promised you wouldn't ever bring that up, Jasper!"

The dismissive noise he made caused her to cry out in defeat. "The kitchen explosion of oh-ten? Oh yeah, baby—nearly burned our house down to the ground, and all because _you_ insisted we start and finish that stupid remodel so the value for the insurance adjuster would be higher, we didn't have insurance to cover it! So let's just shovel out another twenty-thousand dollars into another new kitchen—twenty-thousand dollars we didn't have! And you still hate this goddamned kitchen!"

Bella looked heartbroken; Jasper's guilt was near immediate. "I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away.

He heard the heel of her shoe hit the hardwood floor before she said, "I was cooking that stupid dinner for _you_; so that was your fault, too!"

Of course it was.


	18. Here Kitty, Kitty

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Not my sandbox or sand, but these are my mini-castles, cool? **

**A/N: The prompt may seem a little odd, but after a brief discussion—**_**argument**_**—I may have said these words to dcurley1 and in retaliation, it became my prompt for the day. **

**Rated: M for language and drunkenness. **

**Word Count: 437**

**Characters: Bella-Jasper, Emmett **

**Prompt: "Fuck you with your kitty!"**

* * *

**Here Kitty, Kitty **

Bella stumbled into the countertop, laughing as she attempted once again to get the cookie jar from her older brother. Emmett, thoroughly enjoying his sister's rare drunken state, tossed her a jeering look before hiding the cookie jar behind his back.

"Come on, Em, give me a freakin' cookie, okay? I made them, so I want one."

"Why, so you can puke all over the bathroom again?" His statement was half true, after all, the more sugar she ate when she drank the more likely it was that she'd start vomiting. And for that matter, she only seemed to eat a lot of sugar when she drank. It was lose-lose all the way around. "No way, I am not cleaning that mess again."

Jasper snorted, hiding it with a fake cough as his girlfriend glared over her shoulder at him, but in her intoxication, it looked a hell of a lot funnier than it did frightening. "Well, babe, he's kind of right…"

"I want a cookie; what is so wrong with that?"

"The rainbow mess you left in the bathroom the last time you drank, that's what," Emmett teased.

"Jasper can—"

"Absolutely not," Jasper interrupted, deciding he was hiding the rest of her _Bacardi_ _Breezers_ the next time she took a bathroom break. "No puke, blood, piss, or shit—we agreed. I don't do those things."

Emmett's loud laughter rung through the kitchen, drawing the attention of the rest of their small group of guests in the other room. "You make it sound like a contract!"

Bella giggled and stumbled again with her lame try at getting the cookie jar still hidden behind her brother's much larger frame. "You should hear my terms," she said. "It involves—"

"Don't wanna know!" Edward, her younger brother, shouted from the living room.

"Give me a freakin' cookie!"

Jasper laughed when Em shouted, "No!" He then proceeded to shove the cat shaped ceramic jar above the fridge cabinets where there was no way in hell his girl could reach them. "Get it now, short stuff."

Bella huffed, glared, stomped her foot and muttered, "You know what? Fuck you with your kitty!"

"Wait—fuck me _with_ my kitty?" Emmett actually managed to look confused, causing Jasper's laughter to rise in volume—maybe he was a little drunk, too. "That doesn't make sense…"

"You know what I mean!"

Jasper found he couldn't breathe from laughing so hard. When she stomped from the kitchen, he yelled behind her, "You're cut off."

"And fuck you, too," Bella grumbled.

Emmett was still looking pained from thinking too hard. "Wait—fuck me _with_ my kitty?"


	19. Free Fallin'

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: This place isn't my sandbox, I only borrow the sand, but these mini-castles are all mine. **

**A/N: Since the first prompt was kind of brought up by a different prompt, I figured I'd give the forgotten one a go as well. Thank you for your responses. I adore them all. **

**Rated: T**

**Word Count: 219**

**Characters: Jasper-Bella**

**Prompt: Bird in a gilded cage.**

* * *

**Free Fallin' **

She's a top-notch, high-class, first-rate kind of popular.

He's a down-low, seedy, dirty-clothed kind of sinner.

Her clean, white chucks and buttoned up blouse are a sharp contrast to the scuffed up, worn out skate shoes and the mud spattered t-shirt he sports.

She prays on her knees every Sunday in the back pews with a cross pressed between her hands; he waits 'round the back until the hymns get loud enough to hide the sounds of those white chucks hitting hardwood planked steps.

And God she's pretty—pretty with her mouth around his dick in the front seat of his pickup. Prettier with those skirts pulled up around her waist. Even better with the rosary between clenched teeth and the tendons in her neck stretched and strained when she calls him a fucking animal.

So damned pretty.

She's a top-notch, high-class, first-rate kind of popular. Hidden in a big house on a tall hill, with a light pink bedroom and a window that's just low enough for him to sneak in. Like a bird with her wings clipped, she's tied down and spoiled.

He's a down-low, seedy, dirty-clothed kind of sinner. Waiting at the bottom of her driveway for the light in her room to flicker off once, then twice… and he's just waiting for her to fall.


	20. Now I Lay You

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: Not my sandbox or sand, but this is my castle. **

**A/N: I do not write to offend, I write to release. With that being said, this one is a little…sensitive. Under no circumstances should someone ever drink and drive, or drug and drive—it is never okay, it is never safe, and there is never an acceptable time for it. I myself have lost friends and family from intoxicated driving. Walk. Stumble. Crawl. Call a friend, call a cab—damn, call your eighty year old grandmother, okay? She won't mind; I know, I've done it. **

**Rated: M **

**Characters: Jasper-Bella **

**Word Count: 443**

**Prompt: Life has no rewind button. **

**Prompt provided by Elle Leigh.**

* * *

**Now I Lay You **

He blinked. Blinked, breathed, ached and wondered where the fuck he was again.

Wanting to walk, but his legs were stuck, fingers stiff, and neck turned to the side—a sound reverberated in the back of his mind, but Jasper couldn't place it. Like broken glass, twisting iron, and the screeching sound of tires to pavement and metal to earth.

"…_okay…drive…"_

_Yeah_, he thought.

A metallic taste saturated his mouth. Coughing, breathing, chest shuddering with the inhale that didn't seem to bring enough oxygen and only with pain.

"Bella…"

That blurred up vision wouldn't fade. His face hurt like nothing else—touching the skin and pulling back from the sting, the appendage was close enough to his fucked up eyes that he could see his hand in front of his face. The shocking bright red that stared back curled his stomach.

"_You…drive…" _

Jasper asphyxiated on air, bile rising and flooding his esophagus with a burn. "Bella!" The sound didn't come out as loud as he wanted it to, in fact it sounded like a strained gasp. "Babe…Bella…"

The rapid blinking began again; sparkles reflected every which way he tried to turn to look. Glass, he realized—_broken_ glass. The windshield of that new Mazda his father had bought just two months ago for his seventeenth birthday had smashed to bits. The sting in his face was where the glass had embedded into flesh.

"…_okay…to…" _

Memories flooded a crying mind, hands fumbling at a buckle as he tried to blink through the dark spots still edging at the corners of his eyes. "Bella!" he mumbled, jerking hard against the seat and whatever else was pinning him down when he couldn't get released. "Sorry, sorry…baby, I'm so sorry."

Suddenly, his shaking fingers hit the right latch. Jasper met the hood of his car with a hard thump to his shoulder—the impact cleared his vision immediately. He looked up only to have a pain echo in the base of his skull and tears fill his vision along with the wave of brown hair that was matted and bloodied, sticking to pale cheeks that should have been pinked.

"Bella…"

"_You okay to drive?" _

"_Yeah. A half a joint and two beer, man. I've drove on worse." _

"_That's my sister, bro—you okay to drive?" _

"_I said yeah." _

Life has no rewind button—nothing takes mistakes back.

Eyes opened wider and lungs ached a little more; the cold February wind rushing in through broken opened windows showed the cloud of Jasper's exhale in front of his face. He waited, cried her name low once more, and watched.

No cloud of air passed parted, split, and bloodied lips.


	21. Yeah, That

_**Shots of life **_

**Disclaimer: Not mine—I don't own. Yadda, yadda, and such and so on, okay? **

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely responses! **

**Prompt: Autocorrect gone wrong. **

**Prompt provided by dcurley1. **

**Rated: T **

**Word Count: 212**

**Characters: Jasper-Bella**

* * *

**Yeah, That**

_What did you want for tonight? _

I looked down at my phone and scowled, wishing he'd quit texting me at work. Jasper knew my boss was a raging bitch on her best days, and if she hears that telltale ding, or vibration of my phone, it'll be like high school all over again where the teacher takes it and hides it in her desk.

_Later_, I texted back.

_Pizza; large or small?_

The response came immediately before I even had time to shut the phone off.

"Bella Swan!"

"Shit," I muttered, fumbling with the phone and touchscreen to type back a quick reply. I didn't even look down as I hit a replied, _small_. Hiding the phone in a drawer, I looked up and smiled. "Yes, Mrs. Hale? I sent those corrections off five minutes ago…"

When it was safe to pull the phone out again, I noticed Jas hadn't texted back, then the phone suddenly lit up with a text, illuminating the screen and showing my last reply. My eyes widened, heart pounding as humiliation flooded my senses at the realization of what my phone had autocorrected what was supposed to be _small _to him.

Pizza; large or small, Jasper asked. My response: _anal_.

_Or we could do that… _he texted.


	22. I Won't

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. **

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and alerts! Let's try a different style/sound with this one, hmm? **

**Prompt: I could deceive you. **

**Prompt provided by Elle Leigh **

**Rated: T **

**Word Count: 100 **

**Characters: Bella-Jasper**

* * *

**I Won't **

"You okay? What's going on?"

I could lie.

It would work with a bat of black lashes, a sideways glance, and a roll of brown eyes; lips turning into a coy smile when I tell you, "Nothing."

Oh, I _could_ lie.

"Bella?" Turning, you watch me with a hand out, waiting. "I know I've been—"

Stretched thin. Working too hard. Studying too much. Gone six days of the week and sleeping the seventh. Not talking. Not fucking. Barely eating.

_Lie,_ my mind whispers_. Don't make him feel badly_.

I could deceive you.

Oh, I _could_.

But, I love you.


	23. Get Me There

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. This place isn't my sandbox or sand, but I build these castles, so that makes them mine. **

**A/N: Thank you for all the lovely responses! I really, really, really had an itch to do a drabble dealing with birth or a newborn, so this prompt kind of gave me the chance to do just that. Though it ended up being more of a one-shot than a drabble, ha ha. **** Also, Ed Sheeran's Kiss Me was a big inspirational factor to this one—check it out, love on it, I do. **

**Prompt: What the hell? **

**Prompt provided by dcurley1. **

**Rated: T **

**Word Count: Not important for this one, really. **

**Characters: Jasper-Bella, Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie.**

* * *

**Get Me There **

The caesarian was a safer option with Bella's blood disorder, although the specialist said a natural birth was possible with careful monitoring. Given my wife would bleed like a sieve and the clotting factor that should have helped to stop the bleeding didn't exactly work like it should, and medication was a big no-no during pregnancy, we ended up opting for the C-section instead, despite their reassurances.

And of course, Bella couldn't handle the sight or smell of blood without turning as white as a ghost and fainting, so instead of choosing to use an anesthetic that would keep her awake during the procedure with a blue sheet to cover her line of vision, she asked to be put under completely.

I didn't like that at all.

It also wasn't my choice to make, and I wanted this experience to be as easy as possible on her.

Hidden in the safety of sterilized scrubs and plastic slippers that squeaked every time I moved, my heart pounded. Sweat covered my palms when Dr. Cullen looked up over the patch of my wife's skin covered in iodine with the scalpel in hand and said, "We're going to begin with the incision. If you'd prefer not to watch, you don't have to, Jasper."

I had served time in the military—seen my fair share of death and horror. My father owned a dairy farm, so the thought of birth itself didn't frighten me, either. I'd hunted, skinned an animal, readied the meat, and handled enough blood in my life to know that there was no way a surgery would bother me or turn me queasy. But, someone cutting into my wife, doctor or not? Yeah, not a good idea for my already pulled taut nerves.

With a nod, I sat down on the chair they'd sat up beside my wife, and felt a little better with the blue sheet hiding my line of sight. Methodical and quiet, Carlisle Cullen spoke in a soft tenor as he explained what he was doing. I tuned into his voice, my hand finding the soft auburn wisps of hair that had escaped the hospital cap Bella wore.

Between the low beeps of monitors, the shuffling of feet against a bright white floor, and the soothing voice of a doctor we'd come to consider a friend, I quickly calmed and lost track of the slow tick of minutes passing me by.

A hand on my shoulder surprised me. The nurse I knew only as Esme—the only nurse who had bothered to introduce herself out of the three others in the OR—leaned over and whispered, "She's doing really well—blood pressure is staying stabilized, we're controlling the loss with a decent amount of intake, and the baby is doing great."

I nodded and then startled when Carlisle's suddenly cheerful voice announced, "You're about thirty seconds away from meeting your baby."

We'd chose not to know the sex, but I knew from the start he was a boy. Don't ask me how, I'd only been able to get to one ultrasound and he moved too damned much for me to possible get a glance, not to mention it was fuzzy as hell. My wife was positive the baby was a girl—all those stupid wives' tales said so, and apparently she carried like she was having one, but no way.

That baby was a boy and I knew it.

Whitlocks never made girls first—they had boys.

That first squall had the tears gathering to my eyes and running down cheeks. I wasn't even sure where the emotion had come from, maybe all the waiting and wanting for a child I had so impatiently needed to wait to meet.

And fuck, I wished she would have stayed awake to hear his first cry.

"You were right—a boy," Carlisle said with a small laugh as I turned just enough to catch his joy filled gaze. Then, as quick as the smile had come to his face, it left. His face disappeared from my sight, the baby continued crying before slowly quieting as nurses shuffled and moved. He spoke in that methodical tone again as a nurse moved from his side with a bundled up towel. "I'm going to continue working on your wife now; the nurses will handle the baby. Feel free to follow along with them if you'd like."

Wait—that was my baby wrapped in that towel?

I was off the chair and moving before I even thought. Esme directed my movements to the side area that was sectioned off for the newborn to be cleaned, given the appropriate check-ups, weigh-in, and heat in a small plastic crib. I moved through two of the nurses who smiled and waved me through as the baby began crying loudly again.

Looking over the side of the plastic bassinet, I felt strangely disconnected.

My first thought: _what the hell_?

The sight of my newborn son shocked me into silence. The little creature was bloodied, with whitish-yellow muck stuck to most of his skin. Tiny little fists clenched and shook as his cries grew louder. I flinched and took one hesitant step back.

"Jasper?"

My name being called didn't even really register. I was still lost looking at the being I wasn't even sure was a baby. Didn't they come out looking pink, pretty, and soft? His skin was wrinkled, little lips puckered and shouting loudly. Hazy blue eyes opened wide and not looking at all like they were focusing.

_You should have watched that stupid birthing video when Bella wanted you to_, my mind thought.

"Jasper?"

"Yeah?" Finally, I turned. Esme stared back at me, her eyes narrowed as the nurses moved around me to begin doing whatever work they had to for my son. "Um, Peter is the name we chose for a boy."

Esme shrugged. "We can handle that later. Do you want to tell me if something is wrong?"

Clearing my throat, I looked back over my shoulder but couldn't see the baby in the bassinet with two nurses still working and cleaning. "He's…" Apparently I couldn't form words, either. "I…yeah."

A sympathetic smile played at the corners of her mouth before she moved past me. I turned as Esme slipped in between the nurses to pick up the squalling, bloodied, scary little creature that had been the only thing next to my wife to ever shock me speechless. I heard quiet words like, "Head nurse…what I say goes…he's fine to be moved…report me, then…"

"Esme?" Carlisle looked over his shoulder, meeting the nurse's gaze who held my infant son in her arms. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect." Then, she nodded at me. "Off with the top."

The blonde nurse behind her muttered, "Not sanitary."

"Hush, Rosalie."

I gaped. "What?"

"Take off that top piece to your scrubs," Esme repeated kindly, still cradling the screeching baby Peter. "Trust me—my husband…" she added with a nod in Carlisle's direction. I hadn't known they were married, or even together, for that matter. "…would approve."

I wasn't quite sure what that would do or what difference it would make, but the top shirt piece of my scrubs hit tiled floor. Before I had blinked or spoke, the baby was passed. Her small hand pressed against his slimy back, the other bringing my hand up to cradle the back of his head. Tiny legs and arms rested to my skin.

His little chest slowly relaxed with tiny huffs of air pressed to my own; puckered lips touched lightly to my neck and the crying stopped. The tiny beat of his heart thudded from his middle to me.

I breathed, calmed, and held, finally losing that sense of disconnection and revelling in the sensations of _new_, _family_, and _mine_.

Hazy blue eyes blinked. The pinked cheeks beneath the smears of blood and white muck puffed out when a tiny thumb found its way between little lips. Matted, light colored curls stuck to his head that lay in the crook of my neck.

"Peter."

For a second—one single second—the rest of the room disappeared.

Esme's quiet voice brought me back. "We do this for mothers—gives them and the baby their first chance to bond. Skin to skin contact is the most important, but not just for the baby, you see?"

I nodded, still holding tight and standing frozen still. This would carry my son and me through life, I knew. Just this moment, how I held him first, felt his little heart beat with mine, new skin to life-lived skin and let his little eyes know me before they knew anyone else… he'd always be mine first.

"How do you feel now, Jasper?"

_Honestly_… "In love."


	24. Fears

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I am in no way affiliated with the respective owners, and I make no monetary gain—clearly. **

**A/N: Thank you! **

**Prompt: A power outage. **

**Prompt provided by Elle Leigh. **

**Word Count: Eh, I'm breaking all the drabble rules lately. **

**Rated: T**

**Characters: Jasper-Bella**

* * *

**Fears**

Thunder boomed a sound loud enough to rattle windows. Lightning cracked across the blackened sky, sending bright lights of color streaking through the half drawn shades in the tiny bedroom. Rain and wind pattered and whistled against the outside walls of the two-storey home.

Bella trembled and hid under heavy covers. She felt ridiculous; completely, utterly, and overly childish for her fear of storms, the dark, and God forbid when it _stormed_ in the _dark_. The very worst was when the power went out. Bella couldn't handle that to save her life. And of course they had to live in fucking Forks, where it rained all the damned time, and stormed far too often for her liking.

Jasper snored softly beside her; she could wake him up, curl into his side, and let his sleep-heavy voice lull her out of the panic she'd worked herself into, but she couldn't. Couldn't because she felt stupid, embarrassed, and silly.

They'd been married four years; he knew about her issues and anxiety when it came to storms, or the dark. That's why the house he helped to build—worked so damned hard and put in extra hours every night after work to finish it before their wedding—was equipped with inlaid lighting like glowing directional guides all throughout the hallways and rooms. Even still, the soft glowing lighting didn't really help the sounds to stop, or ease the anxiety that rose.

And nearly every storm, she'd had to practically order him to either slip a Xanax under her tongue to calm her down, or put that magic freaking voice of his to use.

He wouldn't care if she woke him up, she knew. But, Jasper had been working late hours, sleeping a total of maybe five hours on average a night, and dealing with her anxiety attacks because the storms hadn't relented once all week. He was fucking exhausted and she knew that without a doubt.

When the thunder roared overhead especially loud, Bella whimpered under the blankets. Jasper's body tensed beside her at the sound of her fear and discontent. His soft but heavy from being half asleep voice sounded muffled outside her confines of the blankets.

"Bella…" It took him five whole seconds to realize what was going on before she felt him shift, the blankets moved, and suddenly he was under the covers with arms wrapping her shaking frame. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

She couldn't form words to speak properly, turning into a stuttering mess as she fumbled to explain. "I-I am be-being com-com-complete-pletely—"

"Sweetheart, come on," he hushed, arms tightening and lips pressing to her collarbones. Bella couldn't see him, but she could feel him, smell him, and know him even under heavy covers and no light to show the beauty he really held. Fingers danced lightly against her sides moving up that silk nighty she wore. "You know I don't mind."

"Freaking storms," she whispered. "Why can't I get a grip on this?"

Jasper sighed and she felt his forehead press into her shoulder. "Because as the curious child you were, you managed to wander out and get lost in a hurricane when you were seven; you know this. That's where it stems, and it's normal for you to have fears."

"But—"

He made a noise that shut her up immediately. "_But_, you're safe here; the house has lights for you so you can always see, your meds are in the dresser drawer _if_ necessary, and I am always right by your side. Wake me up, Bella."

His hands had started moving again, slipping down to trembling hips to rub soothing and slow motions against her pebbled flesh. She shivered and he asked, "Now, tell me what we know."

"Jasper…"

"Tell me, or I'll stop."

She didn't want that at all, considering how close his hands were getting to the spot she liked to feel him the very most. "We know I'm safe." Jasper moved again and she found him fitted tight between her legs, arms slipping up under her back as his weight pressed her into the mattress. He hummed for her to continue. "We know where the phones are, where my meds are, and where you are. We know the doors are double bolted…"

Bella couldn't finish her sentence as anxiety pulled a rope tight to her throat. Jasper spoke for her instead. "Too high for her to reach," he finished quietly. "Jessi is safe—she can't get out in the storms. Say it, sweetheart."

She didn't have to. Quiet squeals of fear sounded from outside the blankets. The baby monitors Bella had insisted they keep in theirs and Jessi's room was picking up their three year old daughter's cries and echoing them through the receiver on her nightstand.

"_Momma_!"

Thunder shook the house again. Bella pushed Jasper off, and he took the blankets with him, letting out a surprised yelp as he went. Her feet hit the floor and she was moving through the long hallway without even thinking. Bella barely recognized the soft lighting that led the way to her daughter's rooms, or the fact that lightening was ripping the skies outside wide open and brightening up the windows in the rooms she passed.

She found her daughter hidden under her own blankets, with only her face peeking out. Somehow, Bella managed to crawl onto and fit beside her daughter on that small toddler's sized bed. She shushed and spoke softly, hands rubbing back crazy curls they couldn't ever seem to control.

"Just a storm…just a storm…" Bella wasn't just trying to convince her child. "Just a storm, baby."

In her quiet child-like tenor, Jessie pointed to the small radio on her bedside table that she would not go to sleep without and whispered, "Music _gone_, Momma."

It was only then she realized the power had gone out, too.


	25. Baby, Baby, You're So Crazy

_**Shots of Life **_

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I don't own it, but I make it. **

**A/N: I wasn't going to write today, instead I planned on taking a break, but here I am—or here it is, I suppose. Thank you for all the lovely reviews. They make my day a little brighter. **

**Prompt: I cleaned my anger out today. **

**Prompt provided by dcurley1. **

**Rated: T **

**Word Count: 851**

**Characters: Bella-Jasper**

* * *

**Baby, Baby, You're So Crazy**

Jasper forced himself to take a deep breath, needing to calm frayed nerves and the anxiety about what awaited him inside the apartment he shared with his roommate, Bella. Hands clenched rhythmically at his sides before he shoved them into the pockets of his black slacks and sighed.

He'd done wrong, that he knew. Made a comment about her mother calling at all hours of the night, grumbled about her inability to put the dishes in the dishwasher, and the sometimes late hours she kept after he was already in bed. And all because she asked him to please put the toilet seat down when he was done taking his morning piss. She even said fucking _please_.

Hey, sometimes a man just forgets, okay?

_Repeatedly_.

Or it could be the fact that the last woman he lived with was his ex, and she was such a Mary-fucking-Sue that he never needed to lift a finger. She was also boring as hell, bad in bed, and way too normal to keep his attention, mind, and drive satisfied. Regardless, he had obviously become accustomed to someone cleaning up after themselves, and him.

He and Bella, on the other hand, had had a rough morning, and being they only knew each other a few short months and lived together for an even shorter period of time, it wasn't exactly a surprise. After moving out of the apartment he shared with his ex, he needed someone to help cut the costs of living being that he was in school full-time and living off a strict budget. Bella was new to the city and the best friend of one of his friends—she was an okay girl, generally.

She didn't leave tampons out where he could find them, read more than she watched TV, and kept a fulltime job without complaint. Stable, trustworthy, and sort of pretty in an unassuming way—he wasn't looking for _that_, though.

Steeling himself once more, Jasper entered the apartment. Instinctively thinking he should either duck immediately upon entering the space, or that she would have taken all her stuff and left without a word, he was surprised to see Bella sitting on the worn recliner with her feet up and a book in opened hands.

She barely registered him with only a quiet, "Hello."

Jasper dropped his bag to the floor and toed off his boots, chewing over the apology he knew he owed her. "So, listen, about this morning—"

"It's all good," Bella interrupted in that same quiet tone. Jasper felt his brow raise in surprise as he looked over at her. "I cleaned my anger out today, so let's just forget about it, okay?"

"Um…okay?" It took him three whole seconds to register the odd smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You sure, because I know I did wrong—you didn't deserve that, Bella."

"Nope, I sure didn't, but we're good." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the bathroom. "Also, I cleaned the bathroom so try not to miss."

With a shrug and a mumble, he made his way to the bathroom, needing to take a piss and wanting to wash the day's stress away with a hot shower. In the small bathroom, he took notice of the pine smelling odor in the air and every inch of space that looked like it had been meticulously cleaned.

Jasper reached down to pull the toilet seat up and was met with resistance. "What the fuck?" he wondered under his breath before trying it again. The same result happened. Getting down to his knees, he looked at the rim of the seat and tried it again. He was starting to feel a little stupid, but he continued with the jerking of the seat's rim, still getting no better of a result than before "Bella! What the fuck is wrong with the toilet seat?"

The clearing of a throat surprised Jasper so much he nearly smacked his head off the porcelain bowl. "I super glued it down."

"You what?!"

Bella leaned in the doorway, looking bored. "I said—"

"I heard what you said, you crazy fucking woman—why would you do that?"

"Don't call me crazy." She picked at her nails and looked down at him still kneeling on the floor. The stupid feeling returned when she smiled like he was a young child who didn't understand full sentences. "Now you won't forget, and I won't fall in. Win-win."

"You're crazy."

He meant it, but that crazy girl had just gave him more excitement in one day than his ex had managed to rise in him in the three years they spent living together. And he hadn't even screwed this girl.

"Try not to love on this cleaning thing too much, okay? Em told me all about your penchant for the Mary-Sue types. I'm not here to clean your dick and your shit, too. I could have bleached your clothes or scratched all those CDs you like so much, instead."

Jasper gaped. She _wouldn't_. "Bleached my—"

"And don't talk about my mother again, pretty boy."


	26. Ending

I'm going to be marking this as complete. From now on, any of these prompts/drabbles can be found on my blog at www . bethanykris . blogspot . ca. Remove the spaces and there you go. They won't be fandom related prompts anymore, but I will continue doing them. I figure the more erotic in nature they possibly get, the better they are there.

Also, Facebook link for those who are interested in knowing what's going on past my fanfiction-things are, I just can't announce what yet, the link is attached to my profile here.

Thanks,

Kris


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